


Semantics

by wickedthoughts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cock & Ball Torture, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dehumanization, F/M, Gen, HYDRA Trash Party, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Protective Steve Rogers, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Self-Hatred, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedthoughts/pseuds/wickedthoughts
Summary: The release of HYDRA's videos are both a blessing and a curse for Bucky.
Mostly a curse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [A hydratrashmeme fill.](http://hydratrashmeme.dreamwidth.org/2271.html?thread=4702687#cmt4702687)

* * *

 

"Holy shit, is that- ?"

Bucky tenses, gloved left hand freezing mid-reach for the box of Rice Chex on the top shelf. He's familiar with the question, hushed, but so shrill that it can't help but be heard by everyone in the grocery store. He knows what will come next, and he can't fight, or run, so he just waits.

"I think it is," a second voice, just as shrill. "Oh my god, it is!"

He hears the footsteps come up behind him, small and rushed, and he should turn around, or put his arm down, but he can't. If this were a set-up, a trap, he'd be dead. And right now he doesn't think that's such a bad thing.

"Hey!"

He flinches when he feels the hand on his shoulder, and it's enough to break him out of paralysis. He turns, takes in the details. They're young, probably eight years younger than his body. One blond, one redhead. Both shorter than him, even in their heels. Both pretty in an average sort of way. Both looking up at him with expectant faces. Hungry, he'd call the gleam in their eyes.

"You're him, right?" Blond asks with a nervous giggle. "Bucky Barnes, from the HYDRA videos?"

"Yeah, that's him," Red answers for him. "I've watched those things a gazillion times, I'd recognize him anywhere."

He knows where this is going. It's happened so many times before, every time he goes out in public, and yet he still insisted on going to the store by himself. He's too proud, too stupid, all the things he used to accuse Steve of being back before the War, and here's his comeuppance.

"Can we see it?" Blond giggles again. "The arm, can we see it?"

"Forget the arm, I wanna see his dick," Red laughs on the last word. "Hey, Bucky, show us your dick!"

"You can already see it, look."

Blond's eyes hone in on his crotch, even hungrier. Bucky curses himself for wearing sweatpants. He'd only meant for it to be a quick trip, just a few staples Steve forgot on last week's grocery run. So he'd thrown on a sweatshirt, boxers with no support whatsoever, and sweatpants, and really, what did he expect? He's basically asking for this.

"Shit, he's _huge."_

Blond grabs him through the thin material. His body screams at him to do a variety of conflicting things to stop her, resulting in the complete shutdown of his bodily functions. He can't fight her, she probably weighs less than one of his thighs. If he touches her she might break, and who'd believe the Winter Soldier hadn't _meant_ to hurt her? He can't run, where would he go? He's trapped between the shelf and these predators disguised as tiny college girls, and he just wants to get the rest of what he needs and go home. Rice Chex, almond milk for Wanda, raisins, and coffee. That's all he needs, and he didn't even have a chance to get any of them. The mission's not complete. He just wants to be able to get goddamn groceries in peace.

But he can't, and he should have known that. He should've known better.

Not all of his body's functions freeze. As Blond gropes him, his traitorous dick responds to the attention, and she squeals when it thickens behind the grey fabric in her hand.

"I wanna _see_ it!"

Red insists, shoving Blond to the side and pulling Bucky's sweatpants and boxers down around his ankles in one violent yank. His dick springs free, smacking up on his abdomen, his balls drawing up slightly as they anticipate the sex he doesn't want.

"Fuck," Red breathes. "It's just like the videos, all shaved and everything."

She kneels down to get a better view.

"Hey, remember that one where you fucked that line of prisoner's faces, one after the other? You came like ten times in a row, it was amazing. Super-soldier stamina, mmm."

Bucky does remember that one. He remembers all of them. He doesn't want to, but he remembers all of them.

"How much you got stored up in here, hmm?"

As he stares helplessly down, Red brings both her hands up, rolling his balls in the palm of her left while her right grabs his dick, pumps it. His hips respond.

"Yeah, you want me to make you come, Bucky?"

She keeps saying his name like she knows him. Like she owns him. She keeps pumping his cock and rolling his balls like she owns him.

"No."

His mouth finally starts working.

"What was that," Red looks up from his cock, her eyes narrowing. "Did you just say 'No' to me?"

He repeats himself, but he can already see that it won't make a difference to her. He should have known. It's never made a difference to anyone else before. HYDRA's whore doesn't get to say no.

"I think you meant _'Yes,'_ bitch."

Her right hand pauses, still wrapped around his straining shaft. Her left hand closes punishingly over his balls, squeezes harshly and doesn't let go. He grunts, doubling over in pain, resisting the urge to _make_ her stop, because he can't. He can't. His gloved metal hand clenches in a helpless fist by his side while his bare human hand holds his stomach where the ache from her grip is starting to make him nauseous.

"Say yes."

Red's left hand tightens further and Bucky's vision blurs.

"Yes," he growls through the hair that's fallen in his face.

She releases his balls immediately, beaming, and he pants with relief.

"Good boy, I know you want this."

"Yes," he adds again, for good measure. All of this is his own damn fault, and the sooner it's over, the sooner he can get his things and get the fuck out of here.

"Look, he's still hard," Blond giggles. Bucky had almost forgotten about her. "He really is a slut for it, huh?"

If these two have seen all the videos, they know that a little pain doesn't mean shit for his ability to perform. He doesn't bother pointing that out, though.

"Ooh, film this, Mandy," Red orders Blond, giving her a name that Bucky won't use. "I wanna post a video of me giving the Winter Soldier a blowjob!"

"What about me?"

Blond pouts, but gets out her phone and starts pressing buttons.

"You can do him next."

Bucky looks around the deserted aisle, wondering if anybody would stop this if they saw it happening. There are probably security cameras watching the whole thing. So many new videos, from different angles. He knows they'll all end up online with the rest of his videos. Proof of the only thing he's good for.

Red's lips close over the head of his dick, and Bucky closes his eyes, and his mind, and lets his well-trained body take over. He's been told he should enjoy this before, that he's the luckiest man in the world, that he should be grateful. Maybe he should be, but he finds it easier to tune out until it's over.

He eventually feels himself orgasm, rutting into Red's mouth as she giggles and moans. His hands clutch the metal shelves behind him, and he knows he's damaged them even before he opens his eyes to see the broken cereal boxes on the floor and the dents in the shelves from his fingertips. He'll pay for it all.

"Your turn," Red speaks to Blond as she stands, wiping her mouth where she didn't manage to catch all of him. "Oh, wait- "

Red stands on tiptoes, grabbing his hair to make him bring his head down. She kisses him, passing his come back into his mouth. He swallows without needing to be told.

"Thanks, Bucky."

Not all of them say thank you afterwards. He's found women are more likely to thank him then men, though. He tries not to find it endearing. He tries.

"You want me to film you, too, Mandy?"

Red asks Blond as she gets on her knees.

"Of course!"

Bucky glances to the right, down the aisle, and sees a middle-aged man who is clearly some sort of general manager for the grocery chain. He silently begs him to help, but the man must know who Bucky is, because his gaze slides over the scene as he walks down the aisle, disappearing around the corner at the end.

Blond doesn't make him swallow his ejaculate this time. She just spits it out on his tennis shoes. She doesn't thank him.

"Should we pay him?"

She asks Red hesitantly once she's stood.

"Pfft, no," Red scoffs. "You pay whores, not sluts."

Red's already turning her back on Bucky where he stands, pants around his ankles stained in the mixture of spit and semen at his feet. His sweatshirt is rumpled enough that the wrist of the metal arm the girls were only passingly interested in can be seen gleaming underneath. He's been called both whore and slut before, but the distinction has never made sense to him before now. He's not a whore, he's a slut. Whores get money, and though he's been offered money before, he's never taken it. Sometimes refusing money is enough to make them leave him alone. Sometimes.

The girls leave in the same direction as the manager, typing furiously on their phones, arguing about who gets to upload their video first.

He pulls up his pants. The wet spot is right over his crotch. He tugs the left sleeve of his sweatshirt down. He finds an undamaged box of Rice Chex on the shelf behind him and takes it, tucking it under his hidden metal arm.

"You gotta pay for all this, you know."

He turns to find the same general manager from before looking up at him with a stern expression. He robotically agrees, pulling out his checkbook and writing a sizable check to the grocery store at the manager's prompting. Once he's torn the paper from the pad and handed it over, the other man's face softens with curiosity.

"Hey, uh, how much for a hand job? Or, we could go back to my office, there was that one video where you used that arm of yours to finger that guy while you were- "

"No," Bucky sighs. "I don't do that stuff anymore. I paid you for the damage, please just leave me alone."

"Well, fuck you," the man's face twists. "You don't do that stuff anymore? You just did it right here! You fucking little cock tease."

Bucky doesn't bother explaining how none of it had been his idea. He lets the manager berate him until he's out of breath. He lets the small, round, red-faced man ban him from the store. He places the box of cereal back on its shelf as he leaves. He goes to the next closest store, and gets his items.

He's only recognized once, and she only smacks him on the ass, so he considers it a win.

"You were gone a long time, Buck," Steve comments neutrally when he returns to the Tower. "Everything okay?"

Bucky doesn't even pause to think about it.

"Yeah, I got all the stuff, just had to go to two different stores. Everything's fine. Nothing out of the ordinary."

 

* * *

 

Steve knows the way people look at Bucky, the way they talk to him, now that all of HYDRA’s videos have been released to the public.

How could he not know? It happens all the time when they're out together, and if people can be so brazen with Captain America, Falcon, Black Widow and/or the Scarlet Witch standing there, how bad must it be for Bucky when he's out by himself? When he insists on going it alone. Steve doesn't point out that Bucky's doing the very thing that used to drive him crazy about Steve back in the 1930's. He knows Bucky already realizes the irony, and trying to talk about it with him will make it worse. He’s offered his support, that’s all he can do until Bucky reaches out to him.

But this? Steve can’t ignore this. This is bad. This is _appalling,_ and the worst part for him isn’t the rape he’s witnessing, or the number of likes the video has, or the disgusting comments underneath. No, the worst part for Steve is the way Bucky just _resigns_ himself to it. The girl even has the gall to kiss him afterwards, and Bucky doesn’t put up a fight. It makes Steve see red. He wants that girl punished. Her, and whoever filmed the assault, and the people who surely witnessed it in the middle of a supermarket on a Friday afternoon and did _nothing-_

Of course, that would require Bucky’s cooperation, which is something he knows he’ll never get. He still has to try.

“That didn’t take long,” Bucky remarks without emotion when Steve comes raging into Bucky’s room the day after the assault. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Not something I thought _you’d_ be watching, though, Steve.”

“It was on my goddamn news feed! I have alerts on for stories about the Winter Soldier. Anyway, that’s not the fucking point, Buck.”

Bucky sighs. That’s all, just a tired sigh. He won’t look at Steve as he sits on the edge of his bed. Steve remains standing in Bucky’s doorway.

“How many times has this happened?”

Bucky doesn’t answer. It’s an answer in itself, and Steve hates himself for not seeing it before. It’s been so much worse than leering looks and debauched, half-hushed comments. When the HYDRA videos were released, all the torture, brainwashing, and rape, Steve had been horrified for Bucky. Seeing everything that had been done to him in lurid detail, knowing that the world could see it, too. But, the videos had also effectively cleared Bucky’s name of the Winter Soldier’s crimes, allowing him to move into the Avenger’s Tower. Allowing him to pick up the semblance of a normal life, and to begin to recover.

Or so Steve had thought.

“That bad, every time?”

“No,” Bucky says quickly. “And no one’s filmed it before. At least, I don’t think they have. Usually it’s just groping. Or catcalling. Or propositions. Stuff like that. It’s not a big deal.”

Steve can hear it in Bucky’s voice. How worthless he thinks he is. Steve can also hear his friend’s unspoken plea. _Let it go, Steve. Let it go, please._ Steve can’t. That’s not who he is.

“We can get that girl, Buck. She was dumb enough to post the video to her Facebook, we have her name. We can find her, and the cameraperson, and anyone else who- ”

“No!”

Bucky snarls, finally looking at him, and Steve is so happy just to see him animated about something that it takes a moment to register the implications.

“Bucky, we can’t let them get away with- ”

“Fuck off, Steve! I’m not one of your Avengers missions, I’m not the goddamned-damsel-in-distress for Captain America to rescue!”

“But she- ”

“She said ‘thank you’ afterwards,” Bucky looks away again, anger deflating abruptly. “They don’t always, you know. The girl after her didn’t.”

“Bucky!”

Bucky looks at him, eyes wide as he realizes his admission.

“No, Steve, I didn’t mean to- just forget it, okay? I don’t want to press charges. I don’t want to go to court, or be dragged back into the media spotlight. And I don’t want to see them again. Okay?”

Steve chokes on a thousand retorts. He’s so angry, at those girls, at the world, at _Bucky._ He wants to smash furniture. A small, dark part of himself wants to punch Bucky’s face until he agrees to fight back. To fight for himself, his personhood, his worthiness. _Love yourself, you fucking asshole! Love yourself as much as **I** love you!_

Steve swallows, unclenching his fists.

“Okay.”

Bucky gives him one of his tired little half-smiles.

“Good. Thanks.”

They’ve solved nothing, Steve knows. Bucky will continue to be treated like meat, like property, and he’ll put up with it because he doesn’t think he’s worth fighting for. And Steve will continue to let him, because it’s Bucky’s choice, it’s his life, and if Steve were to insist on making Bucky conform to the way Steve wants him, well, how would that make Steve any better than HYDRA?

But he has to try.

“Anytime, Buck,” Steve promises as he leaves Bucky to whatever he was doing before Steve barged in. “Anytime you need something, anytime you want something, I’m here.”

“Okay,” Bucky brushes him off, but Steve dares to hope he hears gratitude in Bucky’s voice. “Thanks.”

“You’re worth it, Bucky. I know you won’t listen, but I gotta say it anyway. You’re worth it.”

The dismissive grunt Bucky gives in response tells Steve that he doesn’t believe him.

_He **will.**_


End file.
